Heartbeat
by Eldr-Fire
Summary: The horrors of war lead to gestures of guilt and anger. Written for the Quest-- information on my profile.


Prompt: Brigade, Heartbeat, Kimono  
Words: 666  
Genre(s): Angst  
Characters: Jiraiya and Suigetsu, but no pairing  
Rating: T  
Notes: Again, tough for me to post something this short as its own story, but that's just something I'll have to get over because it's part of the Quest! You can read about the Quest on my profile if you're interested!

* * *

The village had been obliterated. The wreckage of buildings spread for kilometers, probably brushing against the outskirts of Kiri, and embers from the flames still danced pathetically underneath the dark blanket of ash.

Suigetsu was young and angry. He had tried putting out the fires with his water jutsu, but in no way had it been enough. He had barely made a dent in the utter destruction. Even though there was no way he could have been burned, he had still fled the frightening walls of fire.

He hid now behind a large boulder scarred with flame, watching as the brigade from Konoha rounded up its surviving members.

"He's not here!" one shouted gruffly. "He must've skipped down awhile back."

A few of the men swore as they picked their way over the ruined remains of the village on their way back to their leader. One man, however, was lingering behind, his great mane of spiky white hair bent over something Suigetsu couldn't see.

"Come on, Jiraiya!" one of the men called. "We're leaving, the target isn't among the bodies!"

"No shit," the man called Jiraiya spat back angrily. "You go on ahead, I'll be right there." His torso was twisted so that he could address his brigade, and Suigetsu saw that he was kneeling over the body of a small girl.

Jiraiya turned back to the girl. He clucked his tongue sadly when he saw the blood staining her simple periwinkle kimono. He lowered his head, pressing his ear against the fabric; Suigetsu gathered he was listening for a heartbeat.

Jiraiya's eyes widened in shock. "Agh, if only Tsunade were here," he said bitterly. He brought up his hands parallel to her chest in an attempt to heal her, but when he brought the chakra to his hands it shimmered and wouldn't form around them, instead falling through his fingers, a faint glow in the darkness of the ruined village.

Suigetsu was unimpressed. This man, this _Konoha shinobi_ could help destroy a village but couldn't even save one little girl. His tiny fist curled in anger.

Finally, Jiraiya gave up. His eyes deadened, he looked around for something with which to cover her, but there was nothing in sight. He sighed and finally plucked a burnt weed out of the dirt. Smoothing it out, he placed it on her chest, moving her little hands to rest on top. Then he clasped his own hands together and bowed his head over her, saying a short prayer before getting up and walking away.

Suigetsu could barely breathe for his rage. How dare he be so insulting? His brigade helped kill that poor girl and destroy her home, and then the Konoha shinobi had the _gall_ to put a dirty weed on top of the bloodstain!

He let out an angry cry, thrashing his fists against the ground and collapsing to all fours. He hated Konoha. The thought danced feverishly in his head, and he shouted it to the blackened sky.

He was so enraged that his skin started to boil. His fingers, dug into the dirt, started melting into angry puddles. His tears were becoming part of his skin, and his anguish and hatred were rippling powerfully throughout his body.

Water gurgled in his throat as he moaned, "I hate Konoha..."

A sandaled foot splashed in one of the new puddles in front of him.

"Fascinating..." a voice whispered. It was like the hiss of a snake appraising its prey.

Suigetsu looked up. A man stood in front of him in a dark, nondescript uniform. He automatically checked the man's head for a forehead protector, but there was none-- just sickly pale skin.

"Boy, you hate Konoha?"

Suigetsu nodded.

The man crouched down in front of him. His long, pale face was partially hidden by the long black hair that fell forward as he leaned closer.

"So do I," he whispered, and his thin lips curled in a smile as a large tongue ran over them hungrily.


End file.
